Serving Under Jack
by Wicked R
Summary: After Jack set off in a dinghy, Gibbs didn't hear from him for a while. Till...Implied Sparrabeth with some mild slashy connotations thrown in there too.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Gravitational Forces  
Disclaimers: I don't own any pirate/ship and I don't wish to.  
Genre: oneshot/drama/sketch.

Rating: PG for a little bit of slashy connotations.  
Summary/Set: After Jack set off in a dinghy, Gibbs didn't hear from him for a while. Till...

Pairing: A little bit of this, a little bit of that, everyone can have feelings for a bunch of people at the same time, can't they? Implied relationships and thoughts.

"Gibbs!"

The voice sounded familiar, but in Tortuga, you could never be too careful. What's more, it was a wench addressing him, which spoke of some additional potential difficulties. He didn't like the trouble with wenches, it was more than it was worth. Sure it was nice to have a couple of ports where he was certain he could at least get a bowl of soup and or some other pot luck on a regular basis, but he has never been one of those sailors who had skirts waiting for them in every harbor. Of course it was all different when he used to set foot on land in the company of the renowned Captain Jack Sparrow. His superior's long term relationships were not exactly the greatest, but the captain at least could mostly enamor any wench for a night or two to the extent they then extended their warm welcomes to Jack's first mate as well. But since the pirate lord took off in a one person dinghy, not long after the war with the navvy, strangely not even too bothered that his Pearl was once again stolen by Barbossa, Joshamee Gibbs didn't bother with wenches of any kind too much anymore. It was hard earning an honest living just serving here and there, without the privileges of the title of first mate and without the wit of a captain like Jack, so he pretty much refused to do anything else than get stoned when on shore leave. Having given in to the rum's call for the last few hours again, it took him a while till he spotted the owner of the voice in the vivid chaos that was the harbor of Turtle Island, the very place he first fantasized about how Jack could've escaped from the islet he's been marooned on.

"Have the high winds made ye deaf or the rum dimmed yer deadlights?" The caller, waving at him wildly was wearing even a bit more bright colors than usual and she was, let's say a lil rounder than last time he saw her, but he'd finally recognized Giselle in her.

Gibbs sighed and cleaned the sweat off his brow with the sleeve of his coat, then nodded in the wench's direction, acknowledging her existence. He waited swaying from one foot to other till the woman, who single handedly declared herself Jack's fiance once and for the duration of several months, dangled down the hill towards him. He still couldn't decide whether she was good news or bad news. He sure could do with a tad of attention from the ladies, but although Jack had let him in the room sometimes for a so called threesome, Giselle preferred if Gibbs was just watching.

She was more likely to ask him about Jack's whereabouts to which he had no answer to even if he would've wanted to tell her, or she'd simply deliver him one of those slaps she awarded him sometimes when he was the only one she could find around due to a lack of Jack. Oh, how he missed those days, how he missed Jack, how he missed their taciturn, contented hours watching the sails fill with the wind by the helm, their drunken, babbling nights in the taverns, Jack's whispering voice in his ears when he confided only in him, the captain's infectious energy and optimism driving him forward too, and he missed his tender touch on his shoulders, the only physical closeness their shared along the spiritual one. He cherished those moments, and when he could see Jack's naked body with Giselle or other wenches, or that time he caught him with Elizabeth and ex commodore Norrington, just before the Kraken. Jack was known to have relations with men occasionally as well, but Gibbs never dared to make advances. Their friendship was much more important. One the same note, how else could he have the exclusive right to haul Jack's seemingly blind drunk and naked body out the whore house? Useful experience it was for Jack too, since the pirate captain accidentally stumbled upon the means to drug nigh the entire naval squadron of the Spanish annual treasure fleet. Pity there was so much silver the Black Pearl couldn't possibly sail away with all of it. And then there was the fact that he was the only one Jack'd let near when when he was ill. His chest tightened. He just had to hope Jack was all right without him. He had to be, it's not as if he needed anyone, really, he reminded himself of that chest wound Jack had. He rowed for the length of two days and to safety with it all alone.

"Ye asleep now?" Giselle snapped him out of his reverie with a slap right enough, apparently to wake him up. He was standing there with his eyes open for God's sakes! His senses were a little sluggish though, by the time he could have had a good chance at figuring out what the wench wanted, she had passed him and was lifting her skirts up to take the steps down towards the butcher's on the narrow street.

He had two things to show the encounter for though, his red cheek and a piece of paper that was shoved in his hands. It was only one word written on it on the outside, Joshamee. It was soaked and dirty too, but he'd recognize that handwriting anywhere. He opened it eagerly to find his life had meaning again and all impossibles had a chance to turn into possibles.

Rendezvous at Santo Domingo. I've got the Pearl and something more.

Your Jack. (Captain)

If Jack was not adamant on teaching every crew member how to play the guitar again and therefore anger them enough for another mutiny, everything will be all right.

The End.


	2. My Guess

Chapter 2: My Guess

From the helm, Joshamee Gibbs had a good view of Jack. His captain was amidship, where he had been standing staring out not particularly anywhere for a long while. Jack had originally come up on deck holding the Davis quadrant, but Gibbs guessed that at this rate, the sun's altitude will not be measured that day, perhaps the moon's. There was a bottle of rum in his other hand, but that ended having the same fate as the quadrant, Jack'd given it no consideration.

The younger pirate's behavior unnerved his first mate and it had nothing to do with the fact that they were more sure than not off course on their way to the Golf of Guinea and that after a non scheduled stop due to the hurricane. After an initial perk up in Jack's demeanor attributed to the happiness of seeing his favorite first mate back on the Pearl again, Jack has succumbed to something that was seemingly taking control of him from the inside out. Acting strange, that was Jack, but this was an acting strange in a way that wasn't Jack. If anything, the captain seemed more normal than ever, none of his extreme jocund pretenses, no endless blabberings about nonsense, hiding destinations or the purpose of the journey from the crew. Which meant something was wrong with the captain. At first he thought Jack was ill. He wasn't eating much, his eyes were even darker and Gibbs doubted he would've needed kohl to make them look so, especially against his pale skin. He didn't do much and was sleeping more than usual or at least spent his time in his cabin saying he was sleeping.

All in all, Gibbs had well founded doubts about the health of the captain, but as time passed on he began to see the patterns to his indispositions and became convinced they were more of a mental, than physical nature and that his losing weight came from not eating and not an illness.

With him, Jack was unusually distant and the older sailor figured it was some sort of unhappiness, a deep melancholy that took hold of his friend, although he couldn't imagine where it could've come from. They had the Pearl, they did a few successful raids, they were on sea, had the charts to the fountain amd rum. Many times he'd tried to cheer him up, but it didn't seem to have much more than a momentary effect, if that. It wasn't how he knew him at all. He never really had to fear for his wellbeing before, not when he was marooned, not when he fell behind, he knew Jack'd bounce back, that his sharp enthusiasm'd always give him a way out. Jack thought people who despaired, coward and not those who ran away. Gibbs admired him for it. How could it be that all the battering Jack got from life finally found a way to get to him and was it that at all? If it boded ill for Jack Sparrow, it boded ill for all of them, and for him the most. Seeing him like that was like half losing him already. Not to mention if it continued like this Jack will get ill sooner of later and a quest for immortality was under the circumstances just as unimaginable as Barbossa as first mate. He had to confront Jack about it, again, even if he'd done it numerous times before, even if Jack'll be unhappy about it. He will have to keep doing it until Jack can't brush him off anymore.

Gibbs waved Mullroy over to the helm, he was one of the sailors Jack kept after he got the Pearl back from Barbossa. The ex navy was harmless, he only mutinied because he was too afraid to argue with authorities as he will be now too. Jack thought Mullroy should learn to swim though.

The former boatswain of the royal navy gave the former employ of the East India Trading Company an encouraging slap on the back. It was quite usual for navy servicemen who were disgraced or deserted to become pirates, but the first mate liked to give some further assurance to him and his friend Murtogg, remembering those first times he was aboard a pirate ship having feared them just recently before that. Of course then he met Jack and the world has fallen into place in his head. But because of the condition the captain was in lately, roles could reverse. He climbed down the stairs from the stern and wandered over to Jack. He put a hand across his friend's shoulders giving in to his urge to reach out for him after having watched him for that long without having been able to do something for him. "Ye be all right Jackie?"

It took great effort from Jack to pull himself out of his state of mind with a deep breath, enough to trace the voice from beside him. He found himself staring into the troubled face of his first mate and it wasn't hard to figure out he was reason for the older man's troubles. Jack's eyes were still distant and his body was shaking. Not feeling like an answer while their eyes locked, he turned his head back to stare out at the clouds colored by the setting sun.

"There's no living wif her after this..." He whispered on a colorless voice that made Gibbs shook his head rather clueless as to what he could do, unless Jack told him what was wrong. He rubbed his palm over Jack's shoulder lightly. "Is there anyone else ye'd trust more than meself?" He tried.

Jack closed his eyes for a moment before drawing himself back to reality again and looking at him. This time his gaze was searching. Surely, Gibbs has been his most loyal friend, but that even was only relative. However, it didn't matter all that much if Gibbs knew about his suffering or not, at least not in the sense of endangering him or anyone. If he was so concerned about him he will tell. "The locker."

"The locker?" Gibbs echoed. His gratefulness and ease over Jack talking to him only lasted a moment. The locker? Certainly he'd been surprised in that past that Jack'd been able to shake an experience like death and a maddening purgatory so easily as he had seemed to be, but for it to come out and so powerfully after such a long time?

"The beastie's meant to kill, right? Do ye know how many people perish at sea every year? There were dozens I could see passing, just where I was. They all went to the locker and stayed for a very short time till death came to take them somewhere, a place Tia Dalma could extract anyone from easily. Yet I stayed. Why?"

"Davy Jones wanting to punish ye I'd think."

"No."

"No? He didn't want to punish ye??"

"I was there in that personal hell because of Lizzie."

"Aye, I know that."

Jack shook his head, "ye don't. Tell me the story of Davy Jones."

"But Jack, ye know that better yerself."

"Just tell me Joshamee, what ye know."

Gibbs squinted at Jack wearily, not understanding the purpose of the exercise. However, if that was the price of Jack finally talking to him he'd have to go along with it. "David Jones was once a great sailor, who fell in love with a sea goddess. Davy agreed to ferry the souls of those lost at sea into the afterlife. To carry out this task, Calypso gave Jones a ship. Jones devoted himself faithfully to this duty for ten years, awaiting the one day when he could be reunited with his love. However, when he returned to the living world, he did not find Calypso waiting for him. Jones felt he had been tricked into his duty and could not escape his service. Enraged, Jones allied himself with pirates, telling them how to bind Calypso in human..."

"No."

"No??!"

"No, yer no doing the parts that matter. He was obsessed with revenge and most importantly, he was obsessed with traitors. Of the woman kind to be exact, and those who have been tricked and yet still in love wif their traitors..."

Gibbs' eyes widened and his head shot up, "I always suspected that..." Jack has given up too many things for Elizabeth for it to have been a coincidence. Yet it still didn't explain the state the captain was in. Thankfully, he continued.

"I can't say I met Davy Jones in the locker, but I believe he's directed some of me hallucinations at the beginning. I thought about them as that, hallucinations or in fact I tried to ignore them aft. But now I know that those early suggestions of his are true. At the moment of the ship going down, he'd bound us together for eternity, Lizzie and me, our destinies doomed without each other, the same as it was with him and Calypso. He'd transferred some of his pain on me, for me to feel without Lizzie the way he felt without his goddess. I felt none of it while she was with us, but as she's further and further away I know Davvy Jones' death didn't change the curse one bit. Nothing can change it till she's truly regretful, till she's mine."

"One person might have the same powers as once Davy Jones," Gibbs pondered, "to quash the curse."

"The whelp should know nothing of this!" Jack panicked. Was it a mistake to tell Gibbs about this? "He's to ferry peacefully, no to become the next Davy Jones cause his wife's loved by another and she loves him back. Joshamee, on yer mother's grave and I'll kill ye too, Will Turner's never to know Lizzie's child's no his."

"Careful Jack," Gibbs hushed him, "we're on sea. If he's looking in, he might be able to hear us."

"No," Jack pointed at some driftwood in front of them, remains of what was a ship not so long ago, perhaps victim of the very same hurricane that forced them to the closest harbor earlier. "He's busy with non survivors right now."

tbc


	3. Dissent

Chapter 3: Dissension

Having more or less gathered himself by the next day, Jack had ordered the chip log being dropped so he can have a better idea how fast they were going, then when his sandglass was to be turned he gave the sign for the line to be pulled back to see how much of it has passed over the stern during that period of time.

However, one of his crewmembers, Joe, promptly presented him with a short rope without the wooden board attached to it. They could fabricate another one, but at the moment, his ship log was ruined. "How did this happen?"

Joe wasn't answering though. He was shaking like a leaf and pointing at a dark vessel behind Jack that seemed to have appeared from nowhere, with even the top of its masts dripping water in the bleary sunshine. The deck was intertwined with the skeletons of ferocious sea beasts, a live sea serpent was attached to the side of the boat, its hull was encrusted with barnacles and other aquatic flora and fauna from the sea. Possibly still a very unusual sight for anyone who hasn't met the Flying Dutchman yet.

Jack took a step back himself. Last seen by him after the battle with Davy Jones and under Turner's command, the ship looked decidedly a lot cleaner and less sinister back then. Something, something bad must've happened with its captain.

"Oh, forgive me for ruining your log," William Turner stood in front of them as quickly as Davy Jones was able to, "one of my masts must've caught it," he said sarcastically. He had some sea kelp around him that was holding his sword and his assets the same way a belt would.

"So, what can I do fe ye eunuch?" Jack said as pleasantly as possible, then winced slightly, realizing it wasn't exactly a good choice of words, given that Will Turner was doomed to have no sex life for ten years.

"Would it kill you to call me Captain Turner? After all you put me there on the Dutchman as captain," he said, not so pleased.

"Would ye have preferred to die?"

Will waved him off. "There's nothing you can do for me now, Jack. The question is, what can I do to you?" He drew his sword, "if it wasn't for you, I would've never been trapped there and I would've never been stabbed either, if it wasn't for you, I would've never become a pirate, if it wasn't for you, Elizabeth wouldn't have taken to the seas. I can not let you ruin the little that's left of our love."

Jack flashed his weapon at the same time, "nor can I!" But he was just hovering in a circle at first, trying to postpone an out and out confrontation. "Where's yer father?" He tried his best chance at talking some sense into the other captain and find out what had happened.

"Poor old man hasn't really been on a shore leave for a decade," Will dove after him.

He must've sent his father away. Jack sidestepped to dodge the attack, not sure how long he could do that. Will was a better swordsman than him, even better than Barbossa. "Bootstrap was in the way then? Still on me side I take it?" He teased, being cautious has lost its purpose now that he was openly attacked like that. 

"He won't be, after he finds out his grandson doesn't exist, cause William's not mine! What kind of deceit was naming him Will?" He lunged at Jack again, then feinted to the side at the last moment to draw his parry off balance. Angry or not, it didn't affect his fencing skills.

Gibbs gasped. Last night, when he told Ragetti the secret, the surface of the water wasn't as calm as it should've been in that weather, it must've been the Dutchman below. His mouth landed Jack in difficulties once more. He glanced at the water again in remembrance and saw that it was getting disturbed by another unusual appearance other than the Dutchman. A huge female form surfaced from it as Tia Dalma stood on the seabed. She was holding something on her large palm that she directed towards the first mate.

Will was aiming at Jack's midsection, which he could only avoid by falling on his bottom. He quickly jumped back up, but it was too late, Will has already got his shoulder deep while he was sitting. Jack grabbed at it, then fell back down, this time on his knees. "How's being immortal not violating the rules of engagement in a fight?" He hissed. He'd fought Davy Jones in the same circumstances before, but the old immortal has not been challenged for centuries and was thus a bit sluggish.

Will held his blade to Jack's neck. "Adulterer. Your due punishment's death," he started to slide his sword along Jack's throat to cut it.

"No it's not!" Gibbs stepped into Will's field of vision in the middle of opening the dead man's chest while advancing closer, hoping he was not too late. Jack's life depended on a hair's breath's, literally, the skin was already sliced a little and his shoulder was bleeding profusely.

Will froze, watching Joshamee Gibbs take his heart into his hands. It could only be there on this ship if it was Elizabeth who betrayed him more than Jack. His brow furrowed, but his cutlass was kept in place. "Did you steal that?" He asked Jack, hoping he'd say yes.

However, the answer was only a groan as Jack already felt lightheaded from the blood loss. He needed to keep himself up, otherwise he'd just fall into his adversary's blade all by himself. Other than that, it was only confusion that was discernible on his face.

"A gift from Tia Dalma," Gibbs explained, more for time till Jack got himself together, than anything else, "she was the one who could steal it any time Miss Elizabeth had it with her on the seas. Souls need ferried, not massacred. She'd always helped Jack cause she only thought him capable of doing the job right."

Jack will not be immortal, the thought flashed in Will's eyes before his hand moved. The blade made another little cut and then his hand started shaking along with his whole body as Gibbs done the only thing he could think of doing to save Jack. Stab the heart himself. He fell back, weighed by the importance of his own actions while he could already see the crewmembers from the other ship coming over to cut his heart out. The Dutchman always needed a captain...

tbc


	4. Fimrness Of Purpose

Chapter 4: Firmness Of Purpose

Now that Jack was feeling better, he was looking forward to reassuming his duties as captain of the Black Pearl at his rightful place by the helm. In such bright and constant weather, they didn't need much adjusting anything and Jack has never felt so safe and secure on the seas before. If Gibbs captained the Dutchman, no injustice will be done, although some souls would occasionally have to wait for their lift till Gibbs sobered up. His friend has also promised to keep an eye on him if he remembered well from the time he had the wound fever upon him. All in all, he wasn't surprised when a clean, newly decorated and imposing Flying Dutchman surfaced next to the Pearl the first time Jack was alone on deck.

Gibbs stood next to him in no time, offering his bottle of rum to Jack as if nothing wouldn't happened. Silently they stood drinking, watching the sails and the water just like many times before. They could maybe share some hours sometimes like this, it felt like they we not just one with the elements, but there was a strong connection between them as well that didn't need words to be expressed.

For Jack, having Gibbs around felt like liberation, where he didn't have to wear his mask to deceive people into thinking how brilliant Captain Jack Sparrow was. Gibbs knew that already, and all his vices too, yet they didn't make him any less in the older pirate's eyes.

Gibbs took comfort in their mute connection for a while, but then he reminded himself what he came for. He looked at Jack and tried to put his feelings for him into words. It wasn't like he was in love with him, it was something deeper, like a partnership of two people with a profound appreciation for each other. He didn't find it easy to talk, he's never done things like that before and he hesitated once more. His mind was whirling around just like the sea, should he speak, should he not? There might not be many chances with them worlds apart now.

It was this way that Jack spoke first, "thank you Joshamee. I wish I could do something fer ye to return the favor."

Gibbs shook his head, "ye already did Jack. Ye showed me it's worth to stand up, it's worth to fight fe freedom. Ye showed me people like ye exist. And no to judge people before ye know them like I was afraid of pirates. Fe that, I love ye Jack," he added, hardly audibly. It wasn't a momentous statement, it wasn't even straight forward. He never said he loved him in more ways that it was normal between friends, but he said it and hoped Jack understood, cause he wouldn't be able to say anything more. He wasn't like that. He became worried when Jack stiffened at his words and grabbed the handles of the wheel a bit more tightly, making sure he was looking way past his companion.

"I love ye too," Jack finally answered, not giving away that he decidedly understood the meaning intended and reciprocated some words that were not meant to be said more than once in a lifetime between men like them.

Gibbs took a slug, hiding his relief that it was all finally said and done. He felt stupid all of a sudden. Was that really necessary? Did Jack not already suspect the reasons behind his loyalties? He swallowed, wanting to get drunk as soon as possible, which wasn't a very easy task if one was immortal. He best did that alone. He put a hand on his former captain's shoulders as a way of saying good bye. "I've seen Elizabeth in the Mediterranean." He handed the useful information over to Jack. His thoughts for and about Jack were just thoughts and that's how it should stay forever. "There were some slave deaths on sea nearby so that's how I know," he explained before submerging with his ship.

The End.


End file.
